


A Close Encounter Of The Cockblock Kind

by Measured



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Aliens, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-31
Updated: 2015-10-31
Packaged: 2018-04-27 10:11:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5044318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Measured/pseuds/Measured
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The second date gets gatecrashed by aliens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Close Encounter Of The Cockblock Kind

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Leidolette](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leidolette/gifts).



> Done for Leidolette in TrickorTreat 2015. Based in part over [this](http://scoutpauling.tumblr.com/post/130707129006/found-on-2fort-invasion) poster which was on 2fort Invasion.
> 
> In some of the original cut scenes of Expiration Date, Scout and Miss Pauling really did go on that date, but were interrupted by bread. They also were a bit more explicit about their feelings for each other.
> 
> For the sake of continuity, this story follows the content of the cut and changed scenes.
> 
> Betaed by Kikilicious.

 

Scout rested his hand across the top of the bench. His hand just grazed her upper back, in a way that gave him such an unbelievable thrill. She reached into her blue purse and pulled out a mint, and slipped it his way.

Finally after months of waiting, she had some free minutes.

Okay, so most dates didn't happen at a quarter to twelve, when all the shops had closed and they had to make due with mints for dinner, but they weren't most people. And as far as he was concerned, mints for dinner was the next great trend, which was completely going to catch on.

"Anyways, where was I--?"

Some asshole sat down beside them, and put open his newspaper so wide that Scout knew there'd be ink stains on his elbow before this was all done. As if there wasn't a dozen other benches out here which didn't have a couple out on a date, the jerk had to choose this one.

"Do not mind me, I am a regular human, human. There is nothing to see here," said a monotone voice, followed by several instances of beeping.

Scout barely gave the guy a glance, except it was hard to ignore the silver suit the chucklehead was wearing. It sort of looked like he was trying to do a robot costume, and had the tinny voice to match, but Halloween was weeks away. Maybe he was just really committed to winning a costume contest. Scout would have punched him, but he didn't want to get blood on his date clothes. It was already hard enough getting the bread goo out of them last time.

And as much as he loved punching people, he loved Miss Pauling even more. He had to live with seven brothers and eight mercenaries, all who just loved to get up in his business. One asshole wasn't about to get him ruining his date with Miss Pauling. 

"Anyways, where was I? Oh, I'm stealin' the intel, bullets are flyin' everywhere. I dodge the rocket and go rushin' down the hall. And then I trip over a friggin' sentry. How the hell that other Engie got his sentry down there, right towards the intel, I'll never know. I figured I was a complete goner, but our Demo, he's got my back. He blows both the sentry and that Engie into splatter art all over those walls. I mean BOOM, nothin' left of him there!"

She laughed, brushing her thumb across her lower lip. He'd never felt so jealous of a candy before.

"And then, and then, the big guy and doc, they were so thorough down at the end that nobody got past that bridge. Not even through the sewers. The other team was so busy runnin' scared, barely knowin' how to dodge those bullets, that they didn't even notice me takin' their briefcases.S---o, that was my day. I'd say it wasn't quite a ten until I got to spend it with you. Then it was a ten out of tenity-ten plus more tens. What can I say, you bring _all_ the tens around. Especially me," Scout said.

"Well, technically I can't tell you, or I will have to kill you. Literally, I don't mean that as a joke at all, I'd have to put a bullet through your head, drag you out into the desert, cut you into pieces and put you in a shallow grave."

Scout weighed the options. She looked pretty hot with a gun, and he'd died in worse ways.

"Eh, it'd be worth it to spend some time with you," he said.

"I usually prefer to wait for at least the third date before cutting my date into pieces and burying them in a shallow grave, though," she said.

"Good to know, I guess. I got another year of life, or maybe ten years, with the way your vacation days are goin'," he said.

She laughed again, covering her mouth. There was a mint wrapper still caught between her fingers. Scout could just catch the silver wrapper, though he'd memorized the saying. _Mann's Mint: the mint with a punch of spearmint, and a kick of wintergreen!_

"So the moral of the story is, BLU Engie is fuckin' ridiculous and has balls of steel, though they're splattered all over, I'm awesome, and Demo is a great guy. Oh, yeah, and did I mention how awesome I was? Because there should've been somebody filmin' me for the future generations to see."

"You do mention that a lot, yes," she said. She laughed to herself, and put the mint wrapper away in her purse. "Well, since you asked, my day was--"

Her voice was drowned out by a rising sound he couldn't quite explain. Like it was some production, or the first night in a stadium, blinding green light filled the sky. A single beam started forming. A glance back, and the asshole and his sideshow freak suit was gone. 

He got in front of her. At least he could take the first hit. Even if he was vaporized, she could get away. She reached to her thigh holster, and pulled out her compact pistol. This one had a design of purple roses over it--his first gift to her.

For a second there, gravity stopped working. He hated it when that happened. The floating cars, the frigging wizards curses, though he was starting to think it wasn't Merasmus this time. Down main street, cars and broken boards crashed into windows, making a storm of glass.

"Son of a bitch," Scout said.

She let out a cry of surprise, and started to float up, caught between debris and hunks of metal. She reached out towards him, almost reaching the edge of the green light. Too late, she was being sucked up straight into the air.

He jumped straight into the beam, and reached out to her. Their fingers just touched as they floated up.

For a few seconds, he blacked out, like he'd hit Respawn. A bright light and nothingness split into more nothingness. When he came to, he felt a sharp pain in his lungs. It was like inhaling noxious smoke, but thicker. 

The inside was straight out of some cheap sci-fi flick. Except there wasn't any Captain Randy Maverick or Kirk to save their asses. 

"Miss Pauling!"

He tried to reach for her, but each breath was like a kick to his ribs. She coughed so hard that she was completely unable to speak. Every second his lungs burned for air, the lack of air, and this strange haze that filled the ship. Scout forced himself past the pain, until he could grip her hand. Just that touch was a small comfort. They were still alive, for now, at least.

"We--We've gotta find a way outta this place!"

Scout gasped for breath. He looked desperately around them for a door, an escape pod--anything. 

She shuddered, her hand over her mouth as another fit of coughing started. When she drew back, her palm was bloody.

He stripped off his shirt, and handed to her.

"What are you going to do, flex at the aliens?" she said.

"Not this time, but I'm savin' it for later. Breathe through this," he said. 

Her coughing lessened a little. He led her by the hand as they stumbled through the strange machinery, tinted in a green haze. A ring of lights surrounded the lower floor, built into the sides and only broken by occasional ramps. Weird techno stuff beeped all around in a language he couldn't even begin to figure out. There were several gates that crackled with electricity, only to fizzle out, just as the the doorway behind them had gone.

There was no sign of alien life, no little green men or grays pointing lasers at them. Only strange machinery,  
shaped like loaves of bread, with video screens built in, and little cubbyholes where something like levers and buttons were. With no sign of a way out, Scout took the most direct approach this side of actually blowing a way though the wall, and slammed his fist into the hole. One of them had to be some kind of way to get out. His stupid (or brave, depending on who you asked) action had brought up some option across the screen. Two keys glowed, but he couldn't figure out which one was yes, or no. And for all he knew, no might actually mean 'yes, I want to self-destruct the ship.'

With one hand keeping his shirt to her face, Miss Pauling leaned in and started to work a complicated series of commands. In seconds, she'd gotten through to more unreadable runic letters, and sorted through the menu.

"Wait, you can read that? You know that Alienese crap?" Scout said.

"Like you have to ask?" Miss Pauling said.

Just when he thought he couldn't be any more impressed by her, she had to go and break the mold all over again.

The gateways shifted on, crackling with energy. She nodded at him, and they took off at a run. For just a second, they looked to each other. Hand in hand, lungs burning, they hopped into what very well could be be their last moments together.

Their dates seriously had to stop ending this way. Maybe if he took her to an ice cream shop, they could manage to avoid monsters and aliens for a while. Though, with his luck, the double scoop would turn out to be haunted.

Like respawn in reverse, the second time out felt worse. He gasped for breath. If he could guzzle air, he would. 

Miss Pauling let go of his shirt. The craft still hovered above them. Shakily, he pushed himself up until he was resting on his knees. His legs felt numbed, even unsteady. Even now Scout felt like might fall over.  
"Miss Pauling--go back towards the fort. There's no way they can get past this many sentries. There was like nine of them, and that's just in Engineer's room!"

"You're right. I need to inform the Administrator about this, and make sure the defense parameters are working correctly."

She leaned in. He almost misread the signals and pulled back, but at the last second, he leaned in and cradled the back of her neck. The feel of her lips made him forget the pain, and just how near a brush with death they'd had. It was over too quickly, much too quickly for his tastes. She lingered close, a breath away, her fogged from the night and his breath.

"Maybe one of these days, we'll get a date that doesn't end with us almost dyin'," Scout said.

"What fun would that be?" Miss Pauling said.

Her lipstick had smudged across her teeth, and the side of her lips. Even with the sound of the spacecraft nearby, he leaned in for one more kiss. His hand brushed her back slowly, savoring every second of being near her.

"Just one more for the road," Scout said.

"We have aliens about to utterly destroy Teufort," Miss Pauling said.

"Yeah, that's the point. I might not come back," Scout said.

"You'll hit respawn and be back in less than a minute."

"But you'd avenge me if I didn't, right?" Scout said.

"I would personally destroy their planet, and the planets of anyone who ever so much as traded with them," Miss Pauling said.

"Now that is some quality revenge. I approve of this super hot revenge Pauling," Scout said. He stole one last quick kiss, and pushed himself up.

"Hey, Miss Pauling, enjoy the show--the show of me kickin' those aliens back to planet of the green nerds they came from!" Scout said. 

"I'm sure I will. You always put on a great show," she said.

"Anythin' for the lady of the hour. I mean, more like the lady of _my_ hour, or like, my hear--t--hey, look at the time! Yeah, gotta go--"

He flushed, unable to choke out the words. Instead, he just waved, knowing she was safe for the moment from the menace of the month.

Scout cupped his hand over his mouth. One of these days, he was going to really get ahold of one of those megaphones. Then the other team would know what fear was. So would any bonus aliens or monsters or ghosts along the way. It probably wouldn't work with wizards, though. At least not ones who had been Soldier's roommate.

"All right, it's me and I gotta warn you, you can just say goodbye to your asses, because once they meet my shoes and my bat, they're toast, pal. Oh, and my handsomeness and charm. Gotta warn you, it's a super dangerous combination. Like, I'm surprised you're not dead just lookin' at me here."

It was by some stroke of luck that they just happened to be next to Mann's Best Ball Store. Baseballs, tennis balls, footballs, basket balls and even a few bowling bowls had rolled across the street. Just waiting for him.

He pick up a baseball, and tossed it up in the air. One perfect home run of a hit, and it was one hell of a slam straight into that alien glass. 

"I've broken so many windows, back in Southie they call me the Window Destroyer. Welcome to America, pally!"

He struck another, and another. Unlike when he brought his Sandman to the matches, and he could only hit as long as he had his own ball handy. With this many baseballs strewn around, he could just bat all day. And damn if he wasn't batting a thousand.

"I hope you're seein' this, Miss Pauling!" He blew a kiss into the air, and hoped somewhere, she caught it.

From behind him, Soldier raised a battle cry. Scout turned to see the rest of his team charging down the street towards the green light of the ship.  
.  
"There they are! They stole our hats!"

"And our whiskey!" Demoman chimed in.

Grenades and rockets lit up the air like a patriotic song. Behind him was the sound of a mini-gun revving up, and alien metal meeting all the explosives and baseballs earth could give them.

Scout tossed up another ball, and hit it just hard enough that the glass started to crack. That one little crack turned to a dozen, and then a hundred under the onslaught of explosives. The entire ship sunk deep into the desert, until it was nothing but green light lost in explosions.

"They studied earth, but they never expected _baseball_! Bam!"

From behind him, he heard about the sweetest thing he'd ever known in life, other than _'The Red Sox won the pennant'_ and _'Yes, Scout. I will go out with you.'_

"That was a pretty good show, Scout," Miss Pauling said.

"Pretty good? I'd say it was pretty _damn_ good, considering we went _war of the worlds_ on their little green asses!" 

"You set a high bar, though," she said.

Oh yeah, next monster thing that crashes our next date and I'll make it _movie quality_ awesome."

"You never told me that you'd read HG Wells?" she said, clearly impressed. It was a really nice look on her. 

"Of course, like who hasn't?" Scout said.

Technically he'd only heard the radio show, but it was like reading a book, right? He'd read enough Lovecraft that it had to count.

"We should discuss literature together," she said. Her voice was so low, and held such promise.

"Totally. I am a book readin' machine. Nothin' I'd like more than a discussin' books with you. Baseball? Nothin' compared to that. I mean, it's still somethin', but--"

She leaned up to quickly kiss him, cutting him off. For a few seconds, it was like he'd gotten hit in the head. Nothing but sparks in his chest, and her in his head, blocking out all reason. He grinned, knowing he looked giddy and ridiculous. But he couldn't stop.

"Really? I guess I'll just have to take someone else for the next baseball game. A shame, they were box seats, too," she said.

Scout sputtered, and tried to find his train of thought again. "Tickets? _Tickets_?! Like _baseball_ tickets? You have time off?"

"Actually, we're going to be killing an ambassador, and burying his body afterwords. But a date wouldn't be complete without a shallow grave! I even brought my best chain saw," Miss Pauling said cheerily.

"Oh, great--I mean, yeah. Sign me up."

The sound of laughter broke their moment. Awkwardly, both of them looked back to the other mercenaries. Several of them let out cheers unrelated to alien attacks.

"Well, I'll be damned. Ye found a way to shut him up," Demoman said.

"Works like a charm," Miss Pauling, said.

"I say we keep her around. Whenever he starts talkin', we can shut him up easily," Demoman said.

"Ha ha, real funny, guys," he said. "In fact I---"

She leaned up to kiss him again. He was starting to get that it was probably a _shut up_ kiss, but if keeping his mouth shut was what he had to do to keep her lips on his, he would be so quiet. And read tons.

"I have to go check the defense parameters again. That might not have been the only ship. We're leaving next Wednesday," she said.

"You think this alien war is goin' to be done by then?" Scout said.

"I'm sure you all will have them done by tonight," Miss Pauling said.

"Oh, I will be ready. There will not be a single man out there who is more ready than me. In fact, I'll start getting ready right now!"

"Good," she said. "See you then, Scout."

Scout let out a dreamy sigh, before reality sunk in, like a book thrown at his head.

"Well, crap. I better actually read me some books," Scout said.

"I have some suggestions," Heavy said. He pulled a copy of Dostoevsky in original Russian out of his bag.

"Thanks, but I'm goin' to try for somethin' in an actual language I can read, instead of these moon runes," Scout said.

"Translations are worthless," Heavy said. He pushed the book back into his bag.

"I can't learn Russian in a week," Scout protested.

"Technically, with brain implants and cyborg efficiency, it could be possible," Medic said. "It would just be one simple surgery--" 

"I'll pass," Scout said.

He walked on through the scattered remains of Teufort. They'd suffered through worse, and would be rebuilt soon. Maybe even before next Wednesday. He stopped in front of the bookstore, and bent past the broken glass to pick up a hardcover bound version of _The collected works of Jules Verne._

If reading books was what got her hot, he'd frigging empty every library around, until he got so brainy, he could shoot facts out of his head, like lasers.

He was pretty sure that's what happened to people who read a lot, anyways.


End file.
